


We'll Rise Back Up, We'll Go Again

by ThrillingDetectiveTales



Category: The Nice Guys (2016)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 09:58:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10090139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrillingDetectiveTales/pseuds/ThrillingDetectiveTales
Summary: "Teenage girls," March sighed warningly, "turn into vicious little monsters when they get hungry, man. And that one hasn't eaten since, I don't know. Noon maybe?""We had lunch at one," Jackson provided. He still wasn't quite sure why Holly had taken to hanging around his place while March was running errands now that her days were free for the holiday season, or why March trusted a professional bruiser to look after his daughter, for that matter. Whatever the reasoning, it meant that for the time being Jackson had more than just his fish for company, so he wasn't about to complain.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was digging through my drafts folder today and thought it might be nice to share a finished ficbit from the fandom that inspired my username.
> 
> Set immediately post-movie, picking up from where the final scene lets off.

"So," March said, setting his glass down on the counter and tucking his cigarette back into the edge of his sly grin, "what do you say we get some food into you?"

Jackson snorted.

"Not hungry," he muttered, and knocked back another mouthful of rum. It burned all the way down. Maybe if he drank enough that bright, sharp burn would chase out the curdled coil of emotion that had settled deep in his gut when he'd seen the news earlier that afternoon.

Beside him, March pulled a face, wrinkling his nose and drawing his lip back for half a second while he clicked his teeth disapprovingly.

"See, now that's gonna be a problem," he said slowly, scratching at the stubble lining his jaw. Jackson watched him for a second, the hard jut of his chin, the line of his neck disappearing into the crisp edge of his patterned dress shirt. The shadow around his immaculately trimmed facial hair was edging into scruff, in need of a trim.

A sudden wash of desire rolled over Jackson, loud and fierce, clamoring for him to get a fist around March's collar, maybe drag his tongue along the coarse edge of March's jaw. It was a familiar sensation, not particularly noteworthy for all that acknowledging it aloud could ruin the only good things in Jackson's life. He considered it for a half-second longer than he normally would before tucking it quietly away into a small, dark corner of his mind alongside the rest of the thoughts he preferred to avoid.

"'Cause, uh," March continued while Jackson took another sip of rum and silently reprimanded himself, "I got a teenage girl back there, you know?"

He cut a glance over his shoulder and Jackson turned, blearily following his gaze. Holly must have felt the weight of their combined attention - she looked up from the candy cane she was twirling idly in her hands and flashed a smile with such perfect timing it was like someone had given her a cue.

"Teenage girls," March sighed warningly, "turn into vicious little monsters when they get hungry, man. And that one hasn't eaten since, I don't know. Noon maybe?"

"We had lunch at one," Jackson provided. He still wasn't quite sure why Holly had taken to hanging around his place while March was running errands now that her days were free for the holiday season, or why March trusted a professional bruiser to look after his daughter, for that matter. Whatever the reasoning, it meant that for the time being Jackson had more than just his fish for company, so he wasn't about to complain.

March clapped a hand to his shoulder.

"That's exactly my point," he agreed brightly. "It's been like five hours man, she's about to go all Godzilla on us. Just you wait." He smiled, just the quick curve of his mouth underneath his mustache, eyes crinkling at the corners, and reached out to collect the flier off the countertop. It didn't escape Jackson's notice that the glass of scotch he left behind had a few good swallows still pooled at the bottom.

"Now c'mon," March said, rising to his feet. "Let's not keep a lady waiting."

Jackson rolled his eyes and knocked back one more shot before following suit. He slid the sad remains of the Captain Morgan toward the unimpressed bartender, who frowned at it and made a show of picking it up with only two fingers. She'd looked equally unimpressed when Jackson had stalked in almost an hour ago, Holly on his heels, and instructed that she leave the mostly-full bottle.

It hadn't stung nearly as much as the disappointed shadow in Holly's blue eyes when she sighed a disapproving, "Not you too," and withdrew to sulk at the front of the restaurant, which Jackson thought was pretty fair all things considered.

When they'd maneuvered around the staggered array of tables to the little bench where Holly was waiting, Jackson hung back. While he posted up against a support beam strung with Christmas lights in the shape of chili peppers, March dropped down onto the bench next to Holly as easy as breathing. He melted down into a slouch, so low that he and Holly sat shoulder to shoulder, his long legs splayed out into the walkway.

"You put my name in?" he asked, folding his hands together over his stomach, fingers intertwined.

"No," Holly scoffed, though she couldn't quite keep from smirking.

"No?" March asked with exaggerated incredulity, eyebrows jumping up. "What do you mean, 'no?' You want us all to starve? You think 'cause you're sitting pretty with a candy cane me and Healy oughta fend for ourselves?"

Holly rolled her eyes at her dad's antics and wagged the candy cane in front of his face.

"If you want it so bad, take it," she challenged. March huffed and gently swatted it away.

"Keep your pity candy," he groused. "If it's not under my name whose did you use? Yours?"

Holly tucked some of her hair behind her ear, casting her hopeful blue eyes to where Jackson was lurking, a shadow at the edges of a nice family moment.

"Healy's," she said quietly. She hesitated for a moment and then continued, to Jackson, "I was hoping you'd have dinner with us anyway. Even though, well."

She shrugged.

"Smart play, kid," March said approvingly. He was talking to Holly but looking at Jackson, eyes soft-edged and shining like he was in on a secret.

Something tight and painful caught sweetly in the center of Jackson's chest. He took the half-smoked cigar stub out of his mouth and swallowed, thick.

"What do you say, Jack?" March asked. It was far from the first time he'd used the nickname, but it punched through Jackson's ribs all the same. "Stay?"

Jackson sighed, trying to buy a little time to settle the tremor he could feel in the back of his throat.

"Doesn't look like I have much of a choice," he drawled after a moment, and shot Holly a small smile. She beamed up at him. Beside her, March was watching Jackson, eyes hooded and strangely dark over his approving smile.

A young woman with a stack of menus in the crook of her arm sauntered casually up to them and asked politely, "Healy, party of three?"

"That's us," Holly confirmed with a grin, while March nodded up at the hostess. Jackson's heart clenched, a sudden painful burst of joy, and he reached up to rub absently at his chest with his knuckles.

"If you'll follow me this way," the hostess invited, canting her head and turning toward a large, open dining room off the main bar. Holly bounced happily to her feet and followed merrily in the young woman's wake.

Jackson pushed up off of the support beam and shuffled to where March hadn't made a single move to rise from the bench. He knocked the toe of his sneaker against the shining edge of March's dress shoe.

"You coming?" he asked around his cigar. March shrugged.

"Only if you help me up," he supplied placidly. Jackson snorted.

"You're a grown man," he said incredulously.

"A grown man who's been on his feet all day, doing the legwork so your ugly mug can make a buck!" March defended with a grin. He held a hand out but didn't straighten up from his lazy slouch, wagging his eyebrows in a way that Jackson would deny finding attractive until the day he died. "Help a guy out?"

"You're shameless, March," Jackson grumbled, but he took March's hand and pulled him to his feet even so. His palm was warm, skin softer than Jackson would have guessed at first glance.

March, who was more than halfway to a klutz on a good day, overbalanced and stumbled forward, grabbing at Jackson's arm for purchase. It was by sheer dint of Jackson's chosen profession and his blessedly low center of gravity that he didn't go down like a pile of bricks with March on top of him.

"Ah, fuck," March grumbled, righting himself at the last second. "Sorry, man."

"I'm used to it," Jackson shrugged, pointedly ignoring the fact that March's hands were still on him, one grasping his forearm just this side of too hard, the other curled tightly over Jackson's own. "You've always been a disaster."

"Well, not always," March said. "Just, you know, for most of my adult life."

"So, what? Forty years? Fifty?" Jackson asked, smirking a little to show that he was teasing. March relinquished his grip on Jackson's arm, pulling his hand away to clasp it dramatically to his chest. Jackson tried not to mourn the loss too obviously. Besides, March still had his fingers curled around Jackson's palm, which was something.

"Fuck you," March said, but his outrage was all show, belied by the sheen in his eyes, the little quirk at the edges of his mouth. "I'm thirty-five!"

"Well, hard living'll do that to you," Jackson said with a shrug.

"Oh, ho!" March scoffed and let go of Jackson's hand. "The man's got jokes!"

He slung his arm companionably around Jackson's shoulders, towing him to the booth in the dining room where Holly and the waitress were waiting, grumbling all the way.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm mostly in gay cowboy fandom at the moment but I love making new friends and I do occasionally flail about The Nice Guys [over on Tumblr](http://thrillingest.tumblr.com) if that's a thing you're into.


End file.
